Vasili, 62, shows how he hides from shelling at his home in Orlovka. "I used to have a goat but I killed it to eat and now I use its pen as a shelter. It was once 48 hours of constant shelling. When you go outside you're still nervous, you're always waiting for the shelling to start. Everyone's scared now, everyone waits for the shelling. I can't sleep very well at night, if I hear a sound, like a truck going by, I can't sleep at all."

Danil, 12, and his younger sister have lived with their family for over a year in the government-assisted shelter Collective Center in Mariupol. "I miss my home, I miss my friends. My parents would like to go back but they're afraid because my sister is so small. I don't like it here, it's boring. There are no other children here, so I have no friends."

"My apartment was shelled, I was outside cooking when it happened. I came in and I was shocked, everything was on fire, everything was destroyed. Now I live in a smaller apartment down the hall, my neighbor gave me a sofa and table to use. My documents were destroyed in the explosion. Now I only have photocopies, if I can make a little money I'll try to get a new passport made if it's possible."-Sergei, Avdiivka.

"We repaired this pothole a year ago, now we're repairing it again. Prices are going higher and it's very hard for young people to find work. I worked in the coal mine before I retired. This town was built around coal mines, but when the war started a lot of people left. Nobody knows if the ceasefire will last but I hope the shelling will stop."-Victor, 62, Novoradivke.

Sergei's stockpile of wood in Avdiivka. With coal and gas costs rising many are worried about how they will stay warm during winter. Some have begun chopping wood to burn in preparation.

"This winter will be very difficult for people. For retired people it will be impossible to heat their homes. I think there will be a new Maidan when it starts to get cold and people have no heat."-Andre, Bugas.

A bare cupboard in the village of Gnutove. Food prices have skyrocketed and deliveries to stores near the front line have grown less frequent. Increasingly, people must rely on food they've stored or are able to grow themselves.

"I keep a list of everyone who dies every year in the village. Over the past year over a hundred have died from the war. They didn't build these houses why do they break them? Why do they shell into the village? We haven't taken anyone's money, we havern't committed any crime. We're always scared, to go to the bathroom even we're scared. People are dying for nothing. We live and await death.”-Vera, 70, Chermalyk.

I visited Ukraine and photographed people living at the doorstep of war. The fighting has brought a seemingly endless stream of everyday concerns: rising food prices, inflation, dwindling employment, difficulty traveling through the ubiquitous military checkpoints, and how to afford to heat ones home in the winter. Landmines wait in fields and forests and residents are afraid to enter land they once used for work and play. Many homes have been destroyed.

These photographs are meant to show the world of people who are forced to live in the midst of war. They aren't soldiers, they're just ordinary people trying to live a normal life in impossible circumstances.